


Tea Party

by illogicalbroccoli



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Tea Parties, Teddy Bears, just the fluffiest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 10:02:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18519175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illogicalbroccoli/pseuds/illogicalbroccoli
Summary: Miles O'Brien comes home to find unexpected activity





	Tea Party

**Author's Note:**

> After the intensity of the last fic, I needed to write something fluffy and innocent.

Miles O’Brien walked back to his quarters with mild trepidation. True, Julian had vouched for tonight’s babysitter, but Miles couldn’t help but wish that the doctor hadn’t been called away for surgery. It wasn’t prejudice, he told himself. At least, not species prejudice, he had worked through that a long time ago. And if he had a certain amount of personal discomfort with him, who could blame him? Not that he was afraid he would hurt Molly or Yoshi, of course! Just… what would a man with his background know about taking care of children? Of course, it would probably turn out he’d been in deep cover as a nursery-school teacher on Andor or something.

Miles chuckled ruefully at the thought as he keyed in his entry code. As the door hissed open, he stepped inside, shouting “I’m home!”  
He was greeted by silence. Normally, Molly came running to meet him when he walked in. Today, there was nothing. He furrowed his brow, and stopped to listen. Not complete silence – he could hear faint voices coming from the living room. He dropped his satchel and walked out of the hall, and stopped dead in his tracks.

The sofa had been pushed back against the wall to create a sizeable space of empty floor. In that space, three of Molly’s little chairs had been arranged in a triangle, facing inwards. Between the chairs, in a circle, were all of Molly’s dolls, toys, and stuffed animals. Lupi the Bajoran doll, Piggy the Targ, Terry the Pterosaur… A small cup and saucer sat in front of each animal, filled with what seemed to be grape juice. On one of the chairs sat Molly, wearing her frilly pink dress and delicately holding another china cup. On the other chair, with his knees almost up to his ears, sat tonight’s babysitter, Elim Garak. 

“What’s all this?” Miles said, in a tone that was slightly less jovial than he had hoped.

“Ah, Chief O’Brien,” Garak said. “Welcome home. But please, pray be quiet for a moment longer. Master Lupi was in the midst of a fascinating anecdote. I think he was most put out by your interruption.”

“He’s so RUDE!” Molly said, and giggled. 

“Sorry,” Miles said, and then felt stupid for saying it.

“Pray go on, Lupi,” Garak said. 

And to Miles’ shock, Garak then began to speak for the doll, in a ridiculously high-pitched voice that had Molly in hysterics. When the story, something about a beetle and a tricorder that Miles could not follow, had concluded, Garak looked up at him again.

“Miss Molly requested a tea-party,” he said. “I did my best to oblige.”

Miles found himself smiling in spite of himself. 

“Can I join you?”

Garak looked over to Miles’ daughter.

“Miss Molly?”

Molly shook her head.

“Alas, I fear that all the places are taken,” Garak said, gesturing to the third chair. For the first time, Miles saw that it too was occupied.

“Is that Kukalaka?” he said in shock.

“I invited him!” Molly said.

She reached down beside her and produced a stiff piece of card, which she handed up to Miles. On it, in blue and purple crayon, was written:  
MISS MOLLY O’BRIEN REQUESTS THE PRESENCE OF MR. KUKALAKA BASHIR ESQ. FOR A TEA-PARTY THIS AFTERNOON. RSVP.

“Uncle Garak helped me with the spelling!” 

Miles looked at the Cardassian.

“Uncle Garak?” he said softly.

“Molly insisted,” Garak said, almost apologetically. 

“Wait,” Miles said. “How did Kukalaka get here?”

“I fetched him,” Garak said. “And do not worry, I left a note for the dear Doctor. I cannot imagine he would begrudge Kukalaka a bit of society while he is in surgery.”

Miles opened his mouth, a range of possible responses arraying themselves in his mind. Then he closed it. 

“Well,”he said. “Once you’ve finished, Kukalaka is going straight back. Now Molly, how about macaroni for dinner?”

“Yay!” Molly said. “Can Uncle Garak stay?”

Miles looked at Garak, who had the decency to look slightly awkward.

“I suppose, if he wants to?” Miles said.

“Oh Chief,” Garak said with mock-sadness. “You swore this would never happen.”

**Author's Note:**

> Apolesen commissioned an amazing picture based on this idea (though not on this story, which hadn't yet been written), by a ridiculously talented artist, to be found here:
> 
> https://lacefedora.tumblr.com/post/188176512786/lacefedora-apolesen-commissioned-me-to-draw-a


End file.
